


For the Love of Turkey

by SunnyD_lite



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-17
Updated: 2007-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyD_lite/pseuds/SunnyD_lite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Ancient Doohickey, a puddlejumper ride and a hungry McKay. Plus snark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Love of Turkey

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:**tamingthemuse**'s **52nd** prompt lock pick  
> Disclaimer: Don't own them, no profit. Just having fun, really!!  
> Concrit and feedback: Adored  
> A/N: Cheers and thanks to **spiralleds** who pointed out rough spots and I hope I smoothed them over. As always all errors are mine.

"What am I supposed to do, think lock pick?"

"That's worked for everything else, hasn't it, Major?"

"Not the turkey sandwich. Sometimes I could just kill for a good turkey sandwich, with a touch of mayo and black pepper, tomatoes and a single leaf of lettuce, but not iceberg." The Major arched back into the pilot's chair and stretched so that his hands rested on the console. Not that Rodney noticed or anything.

"Great. That's just great. We've only been flying for twenty minutes and after that rhapsody in sandwich recipes, I'm hungry." Rodney sat up to better slouch back into the co-pilot's chair with a huff. He tried not to look at the Major. Or rather he tried not to get caught staring. At least this time they were alone in the jumper.

"McKay, when aren't you hungry?"

"After sex. Post-coital sleep beats hunger." After noticing the Major's surprised look, he continued, "What? You asked."

Typical. The sex god look-alike was actually a prude. Lovely.

Apparently shaking off his disgust, he asked, "If it's locked, are you sure you want to try and open it without a scan?"

McKay snorted. "Like it's marked 'Pandora'. There's a huge power source attached to this; my scans show that much."

"So you've translated the writing? I didn't know you were that fast with Ancient." He sounded impressed.

Not that he needed the approval of a flyboy with a good gene, he'd half considered not correcting him, but some strange streak of honesty made him confess. "Well, not entirely, but it's a box and it can open but it won't open so—"

"Who you gonna call?"

"Your grasp of the useless is profound. Like you even resemble ANY of the Ghostbusters. Aykroyd is--"

"Canadian. I know. McMurdo was overflowing with scientists. Funny how many Canadians are assigned there; the place is practically covered in those red leaves."

Red leaves! Rodney was about to explode into his 'Canada is a country too – a morally superior one at that' rant number #23 when it suddenly dawned on him. The Major was winding him up, and smirking about it. That wasn't the usual reaction to his various impromptu seminars designed to enlighten the morons surrounding him. It was...odd.

"That's neither here nor there." Rodney hoped that there hadn't been a noticeable pause in his retort. "Some of the symbols are familiar and none say danger. So," and here his hands took over, trying to impart the urgency of the situation, even if it really wasn't, "do your open sesame thing."

"Guess that depends what you want me to open."

"Oh for the love of little peas. Did they purposely take out your brain when they gave you wings?" Here he paused dramatically. "Actually, that would explain a lot."

Rodney suddenly recalled how the Major had known that a six number factorial had 720 variables; maybe there was some working grey matter in there after all. But if you could do math properly, why would you hide it?

"What's this box say that's got you in such a tizzy?"

And Rodney was already familiar with that smirk. It was the same look as when he said 'fainted'.

"Tizzy?" he sputtered. "Major, if you didn't have the strongest gene..."

The Major spun his chair to face him. "You'd pack up your marbles and go home? Really, what do you think it does?"

Glancing to the controls, which weren't receiving any guidance, Rodney tried to keep the squeak out of his voice. "And shouldn't you be looking if you're flying this thing?"

"It's called autopilot, McKay."

"Wow, they come with autopilot?" His nervousness was consumed by awe. These Ancient devices were amazing. Luckily the Major shared his excitement.

"Yup, only the best options on my Puddlejumper." Sheppard reached out to almost caress the console.

"Which is still a stupid name for a space ship."

"You're just jealous that you can't think up any cool names."

"Cool. Right. But since you're not paying attention to the flying machine, here." With that he thrust the box into the Major's hands.

He juggled the now glowing box awkwardly between his hands. "Now what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, just think at it and tell it to open." The Major's stomach rumbled. "Are you still hung up on the turkey sandwich?"

"Hey don't knock a good turkey sandwich." As the Major was saying that, the box's glow intensified, then sputtered out.

"What happened?" Great now he was sounding anxious.

The lid popped opened, and the Major looked amazed.

"What is it?" Rodney demanded.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting..."

The Major pulled what looked like a toasted sandwich, and smelled like turkey, out of the Box.

"It makes food?"

"Finally a turkey sandwich-- Hey it's just like Star Trek! Maybe we can ask it for coffee."

Visions of endless cups of coffee, of GOOD coffee, danced before his eyes, when reality kicked it. He held up his energy scanner and...oh no.

"Hey," the Major said around a mouthful of sandwich, "what's wrong?"

McKay ignored him and pulled at the box for a closer inspection. He held the scanner to it and then noticed that some of the writing had changed.

"Damn. This says zero charges and my scanner confirms no energy readings. That means..."

"No coffee?" The Major had the grace to sound more upset that smug. "It is a really good sandwich."

"You, you... Of all the things to think about! Wait, can I have a bite?"

-Later-

"So I've been thinking--"

"Do you earn hazard pay for that?"

"There was only the one doohickey, right?"

"Doohickey? And you make fun of my names."

"Just the one, right?"

McKay sighed, "Yes, and after that sandwich it's now an ex-replicator."

"It _was_ a really good sandwich, but I was thinking more along the lines of what happens on the Puddlejumper..."

"...stays on the Puddlejumper. And how many weekend leaves did you spend in Vegas?" But the Major might have a point. There was an outlying possibility that they may have acted a bit hastily. Did he really want Weir giving him her disappointed schoolmarm look?

For a pretty flyboy, the Major seemed to have excellent survival instincts. "You know, Major, I think you might be onto something there."


End file.
